Catwoman -- Making Halle Berry Unattractive Since 2004

Facts: Up until, say, 2004, comic book movies were on sort of a roll. X-Men, Spiderman...and then came Catwoman. Fresh off of her Oscar-worthy performance in Monster's Ball, Halle Berry decided to take a colossal shit on her career, accepting the starring role in this cinematic hairball. Perhaps this choice was the result of a bet gone awry, we can't be sure. Starring Berry, of course, Sharon "Muff Shot" Stone, Benjamin "Coulda Been Mr. Julia Roberts" Bratt, and other people now without careers. As a side note: Berry won the Razzie for Worst Performance, and, in a rare moment of celebrity insight, showed up to accept her award.

Plot summary: Naive bumbling Patience Phillips (Berry) stumbles on some kind of evil, secret meeting at the cosmetics company where she slaves away with no recognition (and no spine), and ends up flushing both her career and herself down the toilet. Via some ancient, and yet explained (and lame) resurrection story, in which a cat uses his secret, and conveniently unexplained power, to literally breathe life into her. Oh, and Patience had saved the cat's life. Blah blah, karma. Goody-two shoes Patience becomes party girl Patience, illustrating her independence by cutting her hair and driving a motorcycle, and other "edgy" behavior. When she's not committing daring and brash robberies (for which she makes amends), she romances a boring beat cop with whom she has no chemistry whatsoever. There's a subplot about a cosmetics company gone awry (new facial cream causes the skin to decay, or something), but by this point you won't even care, and you'll be begging for the sweet, sweet release of death. Patience goes on a quest to find her killer, and she wears clothes suitable for fighting -- a black stroppy number with lots of exposed stomach, and a whip. But even that can't save this pile of hardened cat turds.

Key moments of interest:
Cue montage of cats throughout history (world's clumsiest foreshadowing).
Patience bumbles her way through a day at work. Her spinelessness is evident right away.
Enter cliched coworkers: queeny gay guy, sassy, buxom lady. They're supposed to be hilarious.
Patience's Evil Boss is not supposed to be funny. Neither is his Evil, Sexually Unfulfilled Wife. Nor are they interesting, so don't get your hopes up.
Buxom Lady uses the company's new facial cream...and her skin tingles! Could this be a sign of things to come? (Yes. Do you care? No.)
The Evil CEO leads an Evil meeting about his Evil new product. Evil Wife interrupts, and it looks like they have some marital troubles.
Patience is called into the boss's office, where he delights in ripping her a new asshole over her designs. She has until midnight to finish them.
During the course of the evening, she saves a cat from certain death and meets a hot cop.
She slaves away all night, and in a shocking twist, it's too late to hire a courier, so she makes the ill-advised decision to deliver to the designs to the creepy desolate company building, which appears to be located on some kind of Mafia-controlled shipping dock.
Due to lax security, Patience manages to find her way into a top-secret meeting in which Evil Wife is discussing the Evil product in question. (Scientist: We can't in good conscience sell this new cream! It's disfiguring. Evil Wife: Man the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!")
After a hair-raising chase scene through the complex, which involves lots of cowering and pants-crapping, Patience is flushed through the sewer system and ends up soggy. And dead.
Amazing origins story alert! A gang of feral cats which, for some reason, lives on this deserted patch of pavement, finds her corpse and breathes life into her.
Patience wakes up in her apartment the next morning with no idea how she got there, and begins discovering her newly-acquired feline powers.
She and the cop play a weirdly-erotic basketball game which leads to...nothing.
Donning a wildly impractical S&M-style outfit, Patience foils a robbery. Like any good vigilante, she steals some jewels for herself.
Don't get too excited -- she gives them back (in a paper sack, no less) the next day. Oh, but she keeps one piece, this necklace with claws, and uses it for part of her stupid costume.
Patience eventually starts to wonder what the hell is going on (you know, after she's made the suit and foiled a robbery and whatnot), so she pays a visit to this crazy cat lady, at which point she, and unfortunately we the viewer, are treated to the long and mundane story of cats with powers throughout history.
At some point, she tells off Evil CEO and is subsequently fired. But she isn't too upset about this apparent lack of income. There are probably lots of jobs out there for hybrid catwomen in leather suits.
Patience takes her friend to the hospital. We learn more about the Evil cream.
Evil Wife opines that this cream will eventually turn one's face to marble...a fact which surely will not come into play later. Uh-huh.
Tomcat cop realizes Patience is in heat, and they get busy alley-cat style. This is a (boring) conflict of interest since he's attempting to capture Catwoman.
She remembers her boss is the one responsible for her death (actually the wife, but she's not that bright) while at the opera. The cop figures out that Patience is Catwoman, and so on.
Patience goes to the boss's house to get him, but his ridiculous wife has gotten to him first. The wife attempts to frame Patience for the crime, and, after a night in jail, a cat fight ensues.
Due to the marble-skin thing, Patience can't seem to hit her.
But the Evil Wife falls to her death, and Patience is cleared.
She goes about her business, a free (cat)woman. Cue Dear John letter to the cop and a stupid montage of her sashaying down the street. Straight out of a Greek tragedy, this one.

Snarky movie discussion:
The theme for today's discussion will be "Cat got your conscience: An psychological examination of the Catwoman in contemporary society".

ANG: Please comment on the character of Patience/Catwoman in light of a late 20th century feminist consciousness? Focusing in particular on her choice of outfits.
CRABS: What an excellent and relevant question, it's almost as if you're a professional at this. The constantly evolving nature of Patience's outfits during the movie serves as a subtle, nay brilliantly near-subconscious, visual manifestation of her evolving feminist morals. This clearly channels current social memes in which feminine identity is inherently, yet paradoxically, tailored to and simultaneously generative of fashion trends. As my grandpappy Wilbur T. Crabtree always said "the clothes make the woman, and the woman wears the clothes".
ANG: Uh....
CRABS: Next question please.
ANG: In the movie, Patience and her cop boyfriend have virtually no physical chemistry between them. Do you feel that this was a deliberate decision on the part of the filmmakers to illustrate a decline in romantic love in our current society.
CRABS: It's a well documented fact that the incessant modern struggle between urban and rural, futurist and regressionist, science and religion has destroyed our collective historical notion of romance. According to recent data, nearly 91.34% of Americans report a 15% decline in spontaneous amorous feelings and a whopping 115% decline in the belief in the "erotic American dream". I see this film as a sad, yet accurate, depiction of the state of modern romance: detached urbanites engaging in unfulfilling flings between hectic work schedules and jewelry store heists. If the Bard were alive today looking for modern day inspiration for Romeo and Juliet he would invariably cry in his beer and say "tisk, tisk, shame on thee, for thee haveth no booty in thy life".
ANG: Since the release of this film it has become the butt of many jokes for its perceived "badness". While it is true that the film features non-existent acting, laughable dialogue, unintentionally hilarious special effects and a general odor of cat vomit I believe a larger debate rages: is this film actually wholly terrible or is our hatred of it a commentary on the decline of art in western society.
CRABS: Yet again I congratulate you on an excellent question, indeed a question that needed to be asked. I see this as actually a question about Fate vs. Self-Determination. If this movie is truly as bad as everyone seems to think then aren't we bound by Fate to perceive it as another chipped cog in the defunct machine of modern art? Are we not all coerced therefore, into Luddite-esque condemnations of this film, social lemmings if you will hurling themselves off the cliff of late 20th century anything goes moral bankruptcy? Some speak of the "decline of western art" yet I submit that this is a fallacious assertion. Art is a reflection of social trends, yet social trends are a product of politics and history. History tends to be revisionist in nature and politics morally corrupt and vacuous, therefore to expect anything other than intolerable crap from the "artistic establishment" is self-delusional and wrong. In this sense Catwoman is a shining beacon of modern art and an achievement that will immortalize the capricious nature of our time.
ANG: Sorry I fell asleep there for a minute. Are you finished?
Crabs: Quite.

For next time:
Ring ring...ring ring... What's the sound you say? Why I believe its a Booty Call. Yes, that's right, Ang and Crabs delve into the twisted and hilarious world of this irreverent comedy next time. Bring your eye gouges and ear plugs, you'll need them.

Rating: Seven sticks in the eye (and a cat-o-nine-tails to the groin).